


Predator

by DunWithAllTheseHoes



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Explicit Language, Fishing, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Hunters & Hunting, M/M, Masturbation, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 05:55:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15406470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DunWithAllTheseHoes/pseuds/DunWithAllTheseHoes
Summary: Tyler wanted to eat something other than fucking fish.





	Predator

**Author's Note:**

> ***Trigger warning: cannibalistic tendencies, and other disturbing themes.***

Tyler has been living in this trailer park for months. Maybe a year.

He lives with his grandpa, who spends most days heading to the woods for hunting. Deer are his priority, but he often times finds himself shooting quail.

Whatever it may be, it brings dinner to the table.

The elder gives Tyler a simple task everyday. To go fishing, and catch at least two fish in case he doesn't get lucky.

The trailer park is located beside a big, local pond. Although, no one is ever there. Tyler sits at the edge of the pond with his feet dangling and an eerie silence to bond with. He'll sometimes see one or two people passing by if he's lucky, in big boots and tan vests, but other than that it's like a ghost town.

Today, Tyler has to fish again.

As always.

"Catch us something good, alright?" Grandpa sets a shot gun into the passenger seat of his truck.

"Don't I always?" 

Tyler only gets a pat on his head for that statement.

"I'll be back around five," he climbs into the truck. A silver-blue one with ripped leather seats and scratches all along the side of it. "If not, make dinner for yourself."

Tyler let's out a sigh, they go through this every time. "Bye, Pa."

The latter closes the door, starting the engine and waving his grandson goodbye as he drove off. The trailer park has become crowded, the landscape was barely visible because of all the trailers in the way. Some are new, others are rusted, like theirs. Pa has a tough time driving out of here.

Tyler walks back inside and gets his fishing rod, then his hat. The sun was hot, there was never a dull moment. He ties his boot strings tight, then sits up from the foldable couch. He suddenly realizes they didn't have any bait today once looking in the fridge. "Fuck." He curses beneath his breath, he really didn't want to stop by the store.

Tyler knows he has to, though. So he sits back up with a groan and finds a few bucks in his grandpa's wallet.

He leaves, using a bike to ride.

The sun makes him sweat, it's always too hot during the summers. He pedals as fast as he could, the pond shop was only a few blocks over and that's where he wanted to be. This type of weather was prone to heat strokes, and riding a bike wasn't helping. Tyler is panting, breathing far too heavily as he pushes faster and faster. By the time he gets there, he's dripping sweat. He leans the bike against the store and throws his shirt off, over his shoulder.

With the bill of his hat protecting his eyes from the harsh rays of light, he walks inside.

He knows exactly where to go, he's done this too many times.

His lips are parted as he squats, he's still breathing just as hard as he was outside. This store was a wreck; small, smelly, and dirty.

Tyler grabs a white container filled with dirt and worms, standing back up and walking over to the register.

"Fishing again?"

"Always." 

Tyler only knows the man because he comes here so often. His name is Sameer, a nice enough man who Tyler talks to when he needs to. Other than that, Tyler can't really see himself ever being beyond acquainted with him, though. But that only makes sense considering he's well over nineteen.

He hands him the few dollars, looking around the shop while he waits for change.

People were looking at him, up and down.

Tyler looks back at Sameer, clearing his throat uncomfortably and taking his change. "I'll see you." He says, walking out of the store, stuffing the few dimes in his back pocket.

The ride back home was just as dreadful as the ride there.

***

Tyler is still shirtless whilst he fishes. He sits at the edge of the pond and takes the top of the container off. It's a bed of dirt until some pink pops out and wiggles around. Tyler smiles, grabbing a worm and using his thumb and pointer finger in a pinch. He gets it on the hook easily, then casts out his line, deeming it good enough.

Sun peeks through the branches of the trees and Tyler pulls the sunglasses in his hair down until they rest at the bridge of his nose, relaxing.

***

Tyler was sitting there for nearly an hour before anything even tugged at his string. He made time pass by humming songs he's heard on the radio and counting every drop of sweat that fell off him and onto the dirt.

Forty-three.

Then the pull on his line becomes harsh, and Tyler sat up with wide eyes and white knuckles.

He pulled the rod back a little bit to make sure it was something, and it was. A tough one. Tyler begins to reel it in, yanking the rod back every so often and watching it bend.

He always had a fear of breaking his grandpa's fishing pole.

"C'mon," Tyler murmurs to himself, face scrunching as he continued to pull it back and wound with his hand. He considered standing up because of how difficult this seems to be, but luckily a fish came out of the water, hook in its lip, body moving in panic.

The fish falls onto the dirt, flopping around.

Tyler sticks his fingers into the fish's mouth, using his other hand to take the hook from its lip.

Trout.

It's always fucking trout.

Tyler lets out a long breath, watching the fish suffocate before him.

Rolling his eyes, he throws the trout into an ice chest with no ice in it. He put another worm onto the hook, casting the line once more. He only has one more to go.

***

Tyler gets home around four. He doesn't remember being out for that long. Tyler's positive that he's fished out nearly everything from that pond, though, and that's why it takes so long. He doesn't know. He shrugs his shoulders and decides to gut the fish. They have fish for dinner too often, Tyler can barely taste it anymore.

He just wants to taste something else.

Tyler takes the two fish out, both trout, always trout. 

He cuts the heads off first and goes from there, making sure to get all the bones. Tyler's become comfortable with his knife, always in his pocket and an easy cut for the fish.

Maybe he'll go hunting with his grandpa soon, he wants to use his knife on other things besides fish.

***

Grandpa doesn't come home at five or even six, he comes home at ten. Tyler eats fried trout alone, it tastes weird tonight.

***

Tyler still has more worms, he decides to go fishing the next day with his head held high and hopes to catch something other than a trout. Maybe bass, or perch. Anything but trout.

It isn't as hot as it was yesterday, thankfully. He's wearing a shirt today, too. Today is different than yesterday, it's a better day. Tyler just feels right today. He had two fish yesterday instead of just one, maybe that was it. Lots of protein, even some greens he made.

Today is a good day.

Tyler brings a lawn chair with him this time to the pond, the cooler is already filled with ice so his catches stay fresh.

He forgot to put ice last time.

Tyler sits out in the sun today, it feels good today.

He puts two worms on the hook this time, hoping that might get something other than trout. He knows for a fact there other fish in this pond other than trout; bass, perch-- even cat fish. Yet, all Tyler continues to catch is trout.

Tyler definitely wants to go hunting soon, even Pa said he had a feeling he'd enjoy it better.

But honestly anything is better than fishing every day.

Tyler is persistently bored.

He exhales, looking around for a second-- no one's there as usual. There's no big boots or tan vests, he's alone once more. Tyler licks his lips, one hand holding the fishing pole, the other slowly slips past the waistband of his shorts.

Tyler carefully begins to rubs himself, throwing his head back.

The pond was a good fifteen, twenty minute walk from the trailer park. Tyler is sure that's why he's perfectly fine touching himself like this; beside the pond with the sun falling onto him, in the open. Tyler feels so good today. His stomach is rolling, lips parting with short gasps, eyes squeezing together.

Nothing tugs at his line, he's fine.

Tyler's the one tugging. He moves his hand up and down, toes curling, head tilting.

He can't think of the last time he's indulged in anything pleasurable. Living with your grandpa, it's hard to even consider jacking off. They live in a trailer, too. There's no privacy in that thing.

There's not much privacy out here either.

Tyler closes his eyes, hips bucking. Everything is so right.

He bites his bottom lip with a groan to follow through, yes. Tyler can only press his thighs together. He gives up on trying to be quiet, because after a few more times of flicking his wrist, he's an absolute mess. Soft moans fall from his tongue, he could hear his heart beat. Tyler sluggishly pulls his hand from out of his shorts, he can't breathe. He feels like that trout he caught yesterday, but this kind of suffocating felt good, so it's okay.

He sits there for a moment, basking in the sun and also the euphoria.

Heaving like he'd just ran a marathon, he's smiling to himself.

Tyler knows he needs to clean his hand. Come was sliding from his palm down to his wrist.

He gets out of the chair after a few more moments of recollecting himself. Tyler gets down on his knees and leans into the pond water, not caring how dirty it may be, he just needed to wash his hand. Come runs off his fingers when he scrubs it, other hand still holding the rod.

Tyler gradually stands back up, demeanor back to being monotonous.

When turning around his eyes go wide. "Wha-- uh, hi?"

A guy sits in a lawn chair a few feet away from his own. He doesn't look much older than Tyler, he could even pass off as nineteen too. He has his own fishing pole, one leg resting on the knee of the other like he's been sitting there for a while. He looks comfortable.

"Do you have any more bait?" Is all he says, not even a hello.

Tyler gulps, nodding.

He grabs the white container, taking the top off, walking over to the guy and sticking his hand out so he could grab a worm.

He does grab one, he's chewing gum. "Thanks."

"No problem." Tyler says, sitting back down and trying to steady his hand so he didn't scare any fish away.

It was probably too late for that.

It's quiet after that. The two of them sit apart, and fish. Tyler wonders why he's here, if he's new to town, or if he lives in the trailer park and just now found out about the pond. It's too large to miss, too well-known not to be heard of. Tyler questions whether or not he's going to be alone when he goes fishing now, he could use someone to talk to after all. This isn't a bad thing.

"I haven't seen you around here," Tyler says.

He hums. "I've only lived in the trailer park for a month or so. Finally decided to check the pond out."

Tyler looks at him for a second, then looks back to the body of water.

"It's fucking empty, no one come here?"

"Only me, really." Tyler shrugs.

There's another pause in their terse conversation, Tyler realizes he hardly knows how to communicate with others other than his grandpa and Sameer. It's been too long. Tyler doesn't have friends, he's not sure he wants any.

"I'm Josh."

Tyler looks to Josh again, and Josh is looking at him. He has a buzzcut and a nose piercing. Tyler's boring, his hair is just brown and at an average cut. Tyler's eyes are only brown, Josh's are hazel, glowing in the sun. 

Tyler smiles at him.

"I'm Tyler."

Josh smiles back, then looks at the pond. Tyler does too.

"You live alone?" Tyler's only curious.

"Yeah." Josh chews his gum loudly, Tyler doesn't mind though. "You?"

"Nah," he slumps in the lawn chair. "I live with my Pa. He's never really home though, he's a hunter. Likes to go to the woods while he makes me catch fish for dinner everyday." Tyler hates it. He feels the knife in his pocket and he knows he could use it for hunting, he doesn't want to use it for fish any longer.

"What does he hunt?" Tyler wonders if he's actually wondering or if he's just trying to make small talk.

"Whatever he can get; deer, quail, ducks."

Josh hums again. "Does he sell it or do you two eat it?"

"He makes a living selling fresh meat." Tyler says, people from the park are mostly the ones who buy it. They're too lazy to go out and go hunting themselves. People in the trailer park are sleazy, most are drug addicts and they know they can get away with it here. "But yeah, we do eat it too."

"Think I could buy some?" Josh asks.

"Of course."

***

Josh is okay, Tyler likes him.

They see each other nearly every day. Josh doesn't fish as much as Tyler does, and it's understandable. He'll still keep Tyler company while he does, cracking jokes Tyler's never heard before and getting a tan. He needs one.

***

"You know, Tyler." Josh says while they make their way over to the pond. He's carrying the lawn chairs.

"Yeah?"

"Do you always masturbate by the pond?" He asks, a teasing grin on his face.

"What? Oh, oh-- fuck you." Tyler sighs, walking faster than Josh. He stomps in his boots, trying to get to the bed of water as fast as he could. He completely forgot about that. God, what an embarrassing first impression that is.

Josh laughs, jogging to catch up to him. "I'm kidding."

"I can't believe you saw that." Tyler groans, finally making it to the pond. Josh folds out the chairs, the youngest falls down onto one and takes the top off the new container of bait. They poke out of the dirt, then go back into hiding. Tyler grabs one, fingers getting dirty but it didn't bother him.

Josh sits down beside him, watching.

"What did you expect, you were fucking beating your cock in the open, you idiot." Josh laughs even more.

They've become close enough in a short amount of time. They're both just lonely.

"Like I said, no one is ever here," Tyler grumbles. "How was I supposed to know you were going to be there?"

Josh is grinning.

"You knew people would see you." Josh raises his eyebrows like it's a fact. "Must mean you're a bit of a freak, hmm?"

Tyler rolls his eyes. The worm was being stupid, moving around too much. "I'm not a freak, I was just jacking-- can we not talk about this, like, ever again?" He doesn't like talking about himself beating off. Besides, it's not exactly the most comfortable topics of discussion.

"Sure." Josh mutters. 

"Thanks."

"If,"

"No."

"If you eat a worm." He finishes, not listening to Tyler. 

"Are you joking?" Tyler asks, he hasn't known Josh for very long, it's hard to tell when he's kidding or not. Tyler forgets how long it's been, maybe a month now? No, less than that. He loses track easily, they don't have a calendar in their trailer, Tyler doesn't even have a phone.

"Eat a worm and it never happened."

Tyler let's out a long breath, it shouldn't be that difficult. They're small.

"Fine." Friends are weird.

Tyler decides to eat the one already out since he hasn't gotten it on the hook yet.

He leans closer to Josh until their faces were only a few inches apart. Josh stares at him, they're staring at each other. Josh watches Tyler open his mouth, he sees all his crooked bottom teeth. Tyler then sticks his tongue out, Josh gets to see him place the worm in his mouth and look at it wiggle around before Tyler closes his mouth and chews.

Neither of them even blink.

He swallows. "Can we forget about it now?" 

"Forget about what?" Josh says, pulling away. Tyler squints.

"Yeah."

***

When Tyler is back to his trailer, his stomach aches, he feels like he's starving.

Josh went back to his own trailer, saying how he was going to hit the hay. He was invited over for dinner but insisted he wasn't hungry and was too exhausted for that. Tyler gets it. Who wants fish?

Not Tyler, that's for sure.

Tyler's too tired to cook tonight, anyways. He puts the trout into the freezer and heads to bed, he sleeps on the futon. He pulls it out so it wasn't a couch anymore, grabbing the pillow and blanket from the cabinet.

He falls asleep easily, the sun had him beat.

***

"Tyler," the latter squeezes his eyes together, using the back of his hand to rub them. "Tyler, get up." It's his grandpa, Tyler wonders what time he got home last night, because it surely wasn't five.

"What. . ." He mumbles, he was definitely not a morning person.

"You threw up all over yourself." Pa sighs, sitting down beside Tyler's legs.

Tyler sits up at that, eyebrows furrowing. His eyes fly open, only to see his grandpa looking as subtly distraught as possible.  "I," Tyler looks at his blanket, then his pillow. "Dammit." He says, fingertips on his lips and then his chin.

It's everywhere.

"Get up, I'll take your things to the laundromat."

Tyler nods, eyes still getting used to the morning light coming through the window. 

"Think you can pick up something to eat?" He asks, standing from his bed and taking his shirt off because there's throw up on that as well. 

"Tyler, we have fish."

"Pa, we eat fish everyday. I feel like I'm going insane." Tyler narrows his eyes. His grandpa hasn't brought home deer or quail or duck for themselves to eat in a while. It all has been for customers. Last time he had anything other than trout was last month. He's been eating fish for a whole month, nothing but fish. "Please, I never ask."

Pa stands up, blanket and pillow in his arms, now Tyler's t-shirt too. "Tyler, no. You're obviously sick, you don't need any kind of fast food."

"I'm not sick, I'm just hungry." 

"Then eat fish."

The eldest leaves the trailer, slamming the door closed. Tyler clenches his fists when he's gone, practically seething at this point. "Fuck you, fuck you."

Tyler doesn't want fish.

His stomach feels like it's eating him alive. Tyler thinks he needs some milk; his bones are soon to snap, they're becoming thinner by the second. He's becoming thinner by the second. 

He can't help but cry when walking over to the counter. There's deer thawing out, still cold. His grandpa must have taken it out of the freezer for a customer, he probably forgot to give it to them. He's never been so grateful for food.

Tyler sniffles, looking at the meat.

It's not fish.

He pulls out a pan, no salt or pepper, no seasoning. He puts a couple slivers of deer onto the pan, flame all the way on high.

Tyler bounces on his heels in pain, anticipation, sobbing now. He's pretty sure he's never been this hungry. There's a dungeon of monstrosity embedded into his insides. They're pleading in absolute anguish, and so is Tyler. It's only his fault though, he hasn't eaten because he couldn't stand the thought of fish any longer. The only thing he's eaten the past three days is that worm. 

Maybe that's why he was so comfortable eating that in the first place. He's starving.

Tyler flips the deer.

None of it is fully seared but Tyler doesn't care at this point, he just wants to eat.

He's whimpering like a dog, scrunching his face in agony. Tyler's stomping his feet, completely impatient and it's not going to change until he's fulfilled.

He should've ate last night. This wouldn't have been a problem. He could've woken up with clean sheets and and full stomach, and he wouldn't have had to be weeping into his food.

Maybe his tears would act as salt.

Tyler can't take it any longer, he turns the stove off and grabs a slab meat right from the pan. He's not sure it's fully cooked, it doesn't matter, he'll be okay. Tyler takes it into his hands and doesn't wait to have the first bite, his stomach grumbles as soon as he does.

Tyler moans, taking another bite and falling to the floor.

It's hard to eat but Tyler deals. It's too chewy.

He's leaning along the cupboards, eating with his mouth open. No one's going to see him like this, no one needs to see him like this.

The meat is heavily pink and red in the middle, Tyler continues to chow down on the deer. It's finally something other than fish, his stomach is thanking him. Tyler is thanking himself. He still has puke on his chin and neck, and a light set of blood dribbles down his lip, to his chest. He's an absolute mess at the moment, he'll have to take a shower.

Tyler doesn't cry any longer, he feels better.

***

Josh didn't visit Tyler the next two days.

Tyler knows he's probably busy even though Josh never did tell him if he had a job or not.

***

Josh and Tyler don't go to the pond today, instead Josh says there's this river he wanted to check out nearby, and he invites Tyler to come with him. Tyler needed to get away anyways, so he agrees. The two of them take Pa's truck. He doesn't know Josh exists, Tyler figures he doesn't need to. Tyler only tells him he wanted to go fishing somewhere else today, Pa wanted to stay home so it worked out well.

"You gotta direct me." Tyler says, once they're in the truck.

"I was planning on it." Josh murmurs. 

They leave the trailer park, Tyler hasn't driven in a while but it should be fine.

"It's over by that one park with the skating rink beside it. Just head over and I'll show you from there." Josh says, distracted by his phone. Tyler wants a phone, but he has no one to talk to so it wouldn't matter.

Tyler turns the radio on, then scratches his arms.

He's so itchy, he's been itchy for a couple days now. Especially when he tries to go to bed. No matter how much he digs his nails against his skin, it's still beyond fretful.

"Do you have fleas or something?" Josh asks, chuckling.

"No." Tyler frowns, both hands on the steering wheel again. "I think it's just my nerves." That would make sense, a new tick, a new way to cope with anxiety. It seems like the only possible reason.

"You're making yourself bleed."

Tyler looks at his arm for a moment, gray shirt being stained by crimson. He sighs.

"I'll be fine."

"We'll go swimming in the river, wash the blood off." Josh smiles, slipping his phone into his front pocket. 

"Sounds good."

***

The car ride lasted nearly half an hour. It wasn't too bad, besides the amount of scratching Tyler had done. It was his thighs this time, but luckily his jeans prevented it from getting too out of hand.

Tyler parked along the road beside the trees, the river was farther. They'd have to walk.

The two hop out of the truck and make their way over to the sound of rushing water. It was loud, flowing. They could hear it already.

Once it comes into view Tyler already wants to jump in. The water was clear, so different from the pond. There's certainly fish but their home isn't murky over here. It looked refreshing. Tyler starts taking off his shirt, Josh is already ahead of him.

"It's nice, isn't it?" He says, pulling down his pants.

"Awesome." Tyler gives him a half smile.

"Suprised no one's here." 

"I'm not." Tyler says, loosening his bootstrings. "People don't get off their asses, no one cares about nature anymore." His feet slip out of his boots and then he takes his socks off. His feet were pale, the rest of his body was not. Summer was strange.

Tyler looks back over to Josh. "So we're getting naked now?"

Josh laughs, bare and tan. "I thought we were always getting naked."

Tyler purses his lips, then nods. He unbuttons his pants and pulls them off his legs as quick as he could. Josh still watches, feet in the water now. "Stop looking at me, you fag." Tyler let's out a brief chortle.

"I've already seen you jack off, what more is there?" Josh isn't fazed, he's chuckling along with him.

"Josh. I thought we said we'd forget about that." Tyler groans, grin slowly faltering.

"Sorry, man. That's kind of hard to forget."

Tyler rolls his eyes, standing up and running over to the water. He lets out a sigh of relief when his toes first touch the water. It was perfect.

"I haven't swam in years." He thinks aloud, walking deeper into the water until it rests over his hips. He sure did not have a V line, Josh did though. Tyler was just skinny, his ribs were prominent and his hips were beyond visible. He sticks his head under the water, drowning out whatever it may be. It feels too good.

Josh splashes water onto himself, leaning against one of the many rocks.

The sun mends so well with the river. It cools off their skin in the best way, making the heat bearable for a little while.

Josh waits until Tyler comes back up, and when he does, he shakes his head so water wouldn't fall in his face.

"Make sure to wash the blood off." He mutters.

Tyler spits water away from his lips, nodding to what he said. He scrubs off the dried blood on his arms and Josh sees how bad Tyler had actually been scratching. He's torn tissue, nail marks are all over him. Josh tilts his head, squinting his eyes at him in curiosity. He's never seen nerves get that bad before.

"I've never skinny dipped." Tyler says distractedly.

"That's surprising."

Tyler's eyebrows pull together. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Josh thinks before he speaks this time. "Nevermind. Seems like I've forgotten why." He smiles.

Tyler flips him off, knowing he was going to mention what he did beside the pond. Eating that worm was useless, Josh was never going to stop bugging him about it.

"Shut up and swim with me."

"Yes, sir." Josh walks towards him, against the current.

***

Josh rests his head on Tyler's shoulder when he drives them back to the trailer park. Tyler doesn't mind, he only turns the radio on and continues driving the rocky roads.

***

"Josh," Tyler says once they're surrounded by a myriad of trailers once more, pulling the keys out and turning to look at his friend. "Josh." He says again when there's no reply. Silence rests amongst them. Now with the radio off, Tyler could hear his soft snores. 

He was asleep.

Tyler sighs, unbuckling his seatbelt. 

Josh continues leaning on him, he's so close. Tyler is positive Josh has never been this close him before. He smells like the river, but Tyler is smelling something else.

He's never noticed how good Josh smells.

He bends towards him a little more, breath slowly becoming heavier as he does so.

Tyler nearly growls, his hands are trembling like they never have before. He pushes his nose into Josh's neck, mewling at his scent. It's something he cannot explain. It's better than lavender and even pine.

Tyler closes his eyes tightly, heaving against Josh's neck for an unknown reason.

Josh's lips separate like Tyler's, drool falls from his mouth.

He watches it dribble down his chin, it's almost like his senses heighten at the scene. Tyler doesn't know what it is.

"Fuck. Fuck." Tyler's eyes roll to the back of his head, he drags his tongue along Josh's cheek and then his ear. He could taste the salt from the river on his skin, he can't think enough to try and wonder why he's licking his friend. It's just happening.

Tyler doesn't feel close enough to him, he crawls over the dashboard to get closer than he already is, a yearning settles in the pit of his stomach. He breathes in once more, moaning like a fiend.

Tyler uses his pointer finger to swipe the drool off Josh's chin, wrapping his lips around it until it's gone.

Tyler's shaking, clenching his jaw.

His stomach growls at the taste, he's hungry again. He doesn't want fish, though, he's sick of fish.

He licks Josh's collar bone and takes in his scent one more time before pulling away.

He needs to stop.

With Josh's saliva now sitting in his mouth, he knows it's time to wake him up.

Tyler falls back into his seat with these thoughts in mind, leg bouncing, teeth knawing on his bottom lip. Regardless of off-putting acts he has committed, Josh continues snoring lightly; he's probably getting a crook in his neck from the uncomfortable position he's in. 

Tyler clears his throat. "Josh." He shakes his shoulder until the latter's eyes fly open.

The latter snorts, sitting up straight. "What the fuck, are we--" he mumbles  drowsily.

"We're back at the trailer park."

Josh let's out a heavy breath, getting out of the seatbelt digging into his neck. "I'm gonna head home, then." They were at the river the whole day, hours of swimming and laughing with their asses in the sand. It was a good day.

"Alright." They leave the truck together, meeting each other in the front.

"I'll come by tomorrow, yeah?" 

"Yeah." Tyler smiles, he hasn't fully recovered from this hazy feeling. Josh is standing there with trails of saliva all over his face, Tyler's hoping he wouldn't notice. "Um, wanna hug before you go?" He's desperate, he knows this. The two of them have never hugged and yet he's hopeful that he'll get to enjoy that scent one last time before the night ends.

"You're weird." Josh smirks, pulling him against his chest-- it was a tight embrace.

The youngest grips onto Josh's shirt, nose to his Adams apple. This is perfect.

"See you tomorrow." Josh whispers against Tyler's forehead before he loosens his arms and makes his way to his own trailer.

Tyler doesn't watch him leave, stomach distracting him from doing so.

He's starving, but recently, when is he not?

He walks into the trailer, there's even more deer meat on the counter this time.

"Pa?" He calls out. He must be in the bedroom because he doesn't see him anywhere. Tyler walks over to the bedroom, the door is open and his grandpa is fast sleep on his bed. His snores aren't nearly as soft as Josh's, they're loud and obnoxious. Tyler is usually asleep by the time his grandpa is, it never bothers him them but right now he can't.

Tyler's lip twitch into a smile, lightly closing the door.

His stomach growls at him like a vicious animal, and that's how he knows it's about time to eat again. All he's tasted is deer on his tongue for a few days now, with Josh's taste lingering.

Last time Tyler was this hungry it was intential. He wanted to cleanse his pallet from fish and he did just that, but now he hasn't been eating because he wanted more deer, and he ate the last of it just a few days ago, on the floor with sheer blood running down his chest. It was some if the best deer he's ever had.

He wants deer again.

Pa hasn't scolded him for eating the last of it, he wonders whether the meat was actually for them and not a customer.

It doesn't matter, Tyler will eat it anyways.

There's already a pan on the stove this time; luckily the anticipation isn't as dire as before. He feels in control of himself again. He's begins cooking the deer without shaky hands or throw up on his skin.

He plans on cooking the deer the way he did before, it was delicious.

Tyler doesn't take out salt or pepper, not even butter. He's sure the salt on his tongue will make up for the lack of seasoning. The salt on his tongue is making up for everything little thing right now. 

Soon enough the meat is cooked how he's suddenly learned to like it. Tyler sits on futon, no knife or fork, he doesn't see the need to use them. He'll wipe his mouth off with his shirt if he really has to, it's never been a problem.

Tyler's never really learned anything about prosperity.

He's fine with that, though.

Everything feels silent as he chews on rare meet, far more rare than he's ever eaten before. It dances in his mouth and makes love to his taste buds, Tyler groans at the taste, sheer blood running down his hands and wrists.

Tyler eats fast, and doesn't bother showering although he's been sweating the whole day and now has juice from the meat all over his face and hands.

He goes to sleep, deciding to shower in the morning.


End file.
